Touching our history 18th century silver from the old parish church

It is for me one of the most exciting things about crawling around in the past and it is when you get to touch something you have written about.

It is as if the very act of holding it in your hands links you to every other person who has ever picked it up.

Now over the course of the last few years I have come across many documents, pictures and things which came my way as I wrote the book*.

And as I promised to run stories about how the book was written this seemed a good moment to start.

The first is  the silver tankard donated to the church in the 1730's and used and seen by congregations in the old parish church until well into the 20th century.

The second is the minute book of the meetings which ran the township during the 19th century.

They cover the period 1839 through to the 1850s and document who was appointed as the officers including the constable, those responsible for the highways and assessing the rates as well as decisions on how our money should be spent.  There in the handwriting of Edward Smith are the names of the men who sat in the old school house on the green and carried out the business of local government.

I suppose it is a little daft but each time I use the book I am conscious that perhaps only three or four other people have turned its pages since it was written 160 years ago which is a great shame because here are the voices of the committee trying to grapple with the mundane and the deadly serious.

In 1850, James Higginbotham argued that because the services of the constable had not been called on during the year before “there should be no Constable returned for appointment this year.”  

And when the decision was repeated in 1853 it was as James White said because “the Township is sufficiently protected by the County Constabulary that there be no special constables returned.” It was a decision which must have sat uncomfortably with many who reflected that the previous decades had been marked by all manner of crimes and disturbances.

And only went to underline the serious loss of money from the Committees' own accounts just two years earlier.


* The Story of Chorlton-Cum-Hardy
http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/A%20new%20book%20for%20Chorlton

Picture; of the tankard from the collection of Andrew Simpson, 2011

At the opening of the Well Hall Odeon, May 20th 1936

Now it would be a full 28 years after the Well Odeon was open that I first saw a film there.

And of course I have no idea what the film was or for that matter almost any of the pictures I went on to see at the place.

But it was a regular haunt made more so because I had the job of taking my sisters there on a Saturday morning.

Of all the picture houses I have been in there, was something special about the Odeon.

It started with that unique box office in the centre of the foyer, that thick carpet, the decor and of course the smell.

Put them all together and you felt that this was somewhere special, a place not only to be entertained but a place where for a few hours the daily routines along with the niggles of the day could be forgotten.

And these picture houses were designed for just that purpose.  Plenty of homes back in 1936 were still austere places little in the way of luxury and by comparison drab and dim and cold.

But the Well Hall Odeon radiated style from that tall glass and tiled tower to the sweep of the entrance roof.

And it was big. It dwarfed the houses that surrounded it stretched back and was only really challenged by the church opposite.

So I am really pleased that Chrissie shared the souvenir programme with me.

Location; Well Hall, Eltham, London

Picture; souvenir booklet of the opening of the Well Hall Odeon, 1936 courtesy of Chrissie Rose

Lost stories from Chorlton’s graveyard ………

 I am looking at a picture of our own parish graveyard sometime in the late 1970s and it records a scene which has long gone.

When the gravestones were numerous. 1979

Many of the gravestones would be removed during the make over which turned a neglected and forlorn spot into a pleasant recreational area.

In total there had once been 361 monuments to those who had been buried in the graveyard, but only a few survived the rest are lost to us.

And that of course is a terrible loss, both for the descendants of those who were interred here and also to the historian wanting to uncover Chorlton’s past.

Because here had been buried the people of plenty, along with the less wealthy, ranging from farmers, tradesmen to the families of farm labourers.

The Stopford family, 1979

The earliest recorded burials date from the mid-1700s with the possibility there may have been some from the previous century.

We do have the parish burial records along with an inventory made in 1975 of the 361 gravestones, but that will never be the same as standing in front of them and reading not just the names but also the messages that were left.

The Isherwood family, 1979

Like that of William Barlow Stopford who “fell asleep in Jesus” aged just 23, who was buried with his father who was 31 when he died and William’s brother Frank who died on November 14th just 19 months old. 

Sadly, their gravestone is one of the missing ones, along with that of the Isherwood family, whose gravestone records the names of six, two of whom died at 8 and 14 months.

In time I will go looking for their stories but for now all I have are pictures of their gravestones and the locations of where the two sat.  The Stopford’s rested just east of the lych gate and was the first you would encounter on entering the graveyard while the Isherwood plot was one of six graves that rested against the south wall of the church.

I wish I had taken more on what must have been a spring day in 1979, but soe far I have only turned up the two images amongst the 1500 or negatives which I am slowly digitalizing.

There may be more but at present that is it.

Location; the parish graveyard

Pictures; lost scenes from our parish graveyard, 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Stories from my pasta bowl ……

Once every two decades I have a clear out of the books on the shelves.

Of course, there are some I will never part with because they were inherited from my parents or given as gifts from someone special, and like the scratches on an LP they are books which instantly take me back to a girl friend or a significant moment.

And then there are the cookbooks of which I have plenty. 

Most have been acquired after holidays with the fruitless attempt to replicate a dish but are more about recreating a night when good food mixed with interesting company and made for a magic night.

We have all had them and most of mine were in southern Italy or one of the Greek islands.  

The food was simple but delicious and the house wine came in anything from a rustic jug or on one memorable occasion at the foot of the Acropolis in a recycled glass bottle that had once held orange juice.

The best of these cookbooks come with stories which can be anything from the history of the dish to the region they came from, or just the people who cooked them.

What most of the recipes have in common is that they are simple and are really just a rehash of what is available and will change depending on what is in the garden or in the market that day.

And so long ago I stopped being precious about recipes and just went with what I found in the larder or the fridge or what was in season and on sale.

Not rocket science I know but worth restating.

So yesterday I tossed some pasta with a light tomato sauce, a bit of cauliflower and a handful of olives, while the day before it was pasta and peas with a splash of olive oil and pecorino.

And tonight I might cook up some mushrooms and garlic in cream or green beans and tomatoes with fresh basil, only leaving the serious decision as to whether to accompany them with rice, pasta or something else.

Alas I cannot dredge up any stories of encountering a Sicilian peasant or Greek farmer who offered up the secrets of these dishes.

Mine were made up and while they owe something  to heaps of dishes I have eaten across Italy and the islands, they were just made up.

But then always being an inquisitive chap and willing to talk to those in the know, I was always prepared to ask about the meals we were served.

And that led on quiet evenings to the invite into the kitchens and my favourite dishes in preparation.

So on one eventful night I shared the individual secrets of the chef on how she made green beans and Gigantes. 

We were in a small taverna on  Kefalonia looking out on the sea on the night that the news broke of the death of the late Queen.

As that news  filtered out on countless mobile phones my own memorable revelation paled against the bigger story.

But I came away with the knowledge of how to make two of my favourites dishes and a bonus account of how our chef served up grilled halloumi during a power cut amidst a thunderstorm. 

Pictures; cook books from the kitchen, and dishes I have made, 2026, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Visions of the future .... Orangery Lane, Eltham as it might have been

Now I have always been fascinated by how planners have thought the future might turn out.  

So here are two views of Orangery Lane as it was in the early 1970s and how it might have been.


Pictures; from A Future for Eltham Centre, Greenwich Borough Council, 1975

Joseph Johnson, radical, farmer and almost a Didsbury Radical

The Peterloo Massacre still has the power to shock and ranks alongside the Sharpville Massacre in South Africa in 1960 and the Kent State killings in Ohio in 1970 as a moment when peaceful demonstrations were met with the full ferocity of State power.*

And it is of Peterloo I want to think about today and in particular the part played by Joseph Johnson, one time radical who lived in Northenden and whose political past gave rise to a potato being called the “radical.”

Now as many of you know I am searching for our radical past here in Chorlton, not out of a nostalgic wish make the place politically correct but because it seems to me that there would have been people here with views that ran directly opposite to those of the establishment and the wealthy.

There is evidence that there were people from both Stretford and Urmston present at Peterloo, and this shouldn’t surprise us either.  Both were places where there were significant numbers of weavers and these were a group who had become radicalised as their industry went into decline.  So according to one source 151 of those wounded at Peterloo were weavers, which represents 50% of all casualties whose occupations are known.**  And we had some weavers.

So it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that we made a contribution to that 80,000 strong crowd, but that is where at present we have to leave it, with just a maybe.

His home in 1905

That does still leave me with Joseph Johnson, who was on the platform in St Peter’s Field, during the Peterloo Massacre and was arrested for “assembling with unlawful banners at an unlawful meeting for the purpose of inciting discontent,”  found guilty, and on his release in 1821 settled in Northenden.

He was born in Manchester which some sources narrow down to Didsbury in 1791 and became a successful brush maker.

A strong supporter of universal suffrage and annual parliaments, Johnson joined the Manchester Hampden Club formed by John Knight. In 1818 Johnson helped John Knight, James Wroe and John Saxton to start the radical newspaper, the Manchester Observer. Within twelve months the Manchester Observer was selling 4,000 copies a week. Although it started as a local paper, by 1819 it was sold in most of the large towns and cities in Britain. Henry Hunt called the Manchester Observer "the only newspaper in England that I know, fairly and honestly devoted to such reform as would give the people their whole rights."

In March 1819 Joseph Johnson, John Knight and James Wroe formed the Patriotic Union Society. Johnson was appointed secretary of the organisation and Wroe became treasurer. The main objective of the Patriotic Union Society was to obtain parliamentary reform and during the summer of 1819 it was to hold a meeting here in Manchester at St Peter’s Field.  The rest as we know was a tragic outcome, and one which in its way was no less awful for Johnson.  For after being imprisoned his wife fell ill and died and he was refused permission to attend the funeral. ***

On his release he settled in
Northenden and we can track him in the village from 1841 through till his death in 1872.  During that time he gave his occupation variously as brush maker and later land proprietor and it will be as such that he planted potatoes which became known as “radicals” 

A fact that might have been lost to us had not another radical who described his visit to Chorlton in the June of 1847.  This was Alexander Somerville who having crossed over the Mersey recorded that

‘My companion said-“It was in this way; it was a sort of potato introduced here by Mr Johnson of Northern; and as he was a radical, they called the ‘tatoes radicals too.  Don’t you remember the song that used to be sung?  ‘God Bless Hunt and Johnson, and all who take their part;’ that was the Mr. Johnson, now of Northern, a very good gentleman he is who brought this very good kind of potato here which they call radical.”’

Which should really be the end of the story but I shall close with his will.  On his death he left £2000 and was described as “gentleman.”  I wonder if he would have approved of the description.

Pictures: Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council Peterloo, 1819, m77801, Ravenswood home of Joseph Johnson, 1905, m36100, Veterans of Peterloo 1884, m07594

*On an August day in 1819, anything between 60,000 and 80,000 men, women and children had assembled in St Peter’s Field to listen to the case for reforming the representation of Parliament.  Just before 2 in the afternoon a unit of Cavalry charged into the crowd with their sabres.  The deaths resulting from that charge have never been exactly established but sources claimed between 11 and 15 people were killed and up to 700 injured.  At Sharpeville in March 1960, after a day of demonstrations, the South African police opened fire on the demonstrators, killing 69 people. At Kent State University in Ohio, four students were shot and nine wounded by the National Guard during a peaceful protest at US involvement in the Vietnam War.

**Bush, Michael, The Casualties of Peterloo, 2005

*** http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/PRjohnson.htm

The grim side to some of our Manchester pubs

Now I am back with Peterloo and the dastardly actions of the Manchester Yeomanry who on August 16th, 1819, charged a peaceful crowd in St Peter’s Fields, leaving many dead and wounded.

The Manchester Yeomanry in action, 1819

And over the last few days I have been exploring* the background of the 101 men listed in the Northern Star as participating in the outrage.**

We can track the occupations of 87 of them, and they represent a cross section of the population, with over a third drawn from the “people of plenty”, another 29% who made their living as publicans and shopkeepers, which left the rest as a mix of skilled, and manual workers, with the odd surprises which include a “Professor of Dance” and a quack doctor.

But today I am interested in the nine publicans.  They were William Bowker of the King's Head at 4 Old Shambles, John Beeston who ran the Windsor Castle in Salford, and later took over the George at 47 Deansgate, and William Benson of the Fox at 1 Jackson’s Row.

The Briton's Protection, 2016 as seen in the book

To these three we can add Mr. Burgess of the Hen & Chicken on 163 Deansgate, Parker Horsefield of the Briton’s Protection on Waterloo Street by Great Bridgewater Street, Edward Hall of the Blue Cap at 80 Greengate, Jacob Chadderton who offered up beer and cheer at the Wool Pack in Pendleton, John Reid of the Globe, Gartside Street and Samuel Lees of the Crown and Thistle, 9 Half Street, Manchester.

Of these I am pretty sure that only one of the nine pubs still in business is the Briton’s Protection, but some will have lasted longer than others.

So, while the Blue Cap on Greengate had vanished by 1850, the Windsor Castle on New Windsor in Salford was still there thirty-one years after Peterloo.

The Windsor Castle Salford, 1850

Had I come across this bit of information back in 2016, it might well have been included in our book on city centre Manchester Pubs, that said as the book is only about ones you can visit today that would have limited the inclusion of the Manchester Yeomanry landlords to just the Briton’s Protection.

That said, I see no reason why I shouldn’t pursue the remaining eight, starting with the Fox on the corner of Deansgate and Jackson’s Row which was still selling happiness or sadness in 1844, but now sits under Onward Building.

So in the fullness of time we  shall see just what can be found out about the two Salford pubs and their landlords, followed up by the more  Manchester landlords and their pubs.

The Fox, Jacksons Row, 1844

Location; Manchester and Salford

Pictures; "Manchester Heroes", Peterloo, print from etching by unknown artist, published by S W Fores, 1819, m07587, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass, New Windsor, Salter’s Street Directory, 1850,  The Fox Inn, Jackson’s Row, 1844, from the OS for Manchester & Salford, 1844, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/


*The Manchester Yeomanry, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2019/08/exploring-butchers-of-peterloo-101-men.html

**The Northern Star, Chartist newspaper, August 20th 1842

*** Manchester Pubs- The Stories Behind the Doors, Centre Centre along with  our two companion volumes,  Manchester Pubs- The Stories Behind the Doors, Chorlton-cum-Hardy, and  Manchester Pubs- The Stories Behind the Doors are available from www.pubbooks.co.uk and Chorlton Books